


Star Light

by januarywren



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drabble, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, Jakku, Kylo Ren and Rey Are Related, Love, POV Kylo Ren, Possessive Behavior, Protective Kylo Ren, Rey Needs A Hug, Young Rey, tfa au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 18:11:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20412121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/januarywren/pseuds/januarywren
Summary: “We’re the only ones left,” He murmured, moving her so she was against his chest, facing him and kissed the tip of her nose. “The only ones who matter, Rey.”She'd quieted at the words, before burying her face against his neck and shaking with unshed tears. Later, he brought her back to their quarters; and fed toast by hand, before writing their names together in stark, bold lines with his calligraphy pen while she sat on his desk and watched in fascination.“Show me again,” She asked. “Please, Kylo.”He did, again and again, before her eyes drooped and he knew she wasn’t watching anymore. “Only for you,” He said as he set aside the paper to dry and gathered her to him. Honeycrisps and the smell of crackling leaves clung to her; despite the sterile air of space. “All for you, Rey.”AU | Kylo doesn't want to burn down the Resistance for his Master, or the First Order. He intends to do it forher.





	Star Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlbaStarGazer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlbaStarGazer/gifts), [PastelWonder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelWonder/gifts), [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts), [KyloZen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyloZen/gifts).

> For four of my favorite reylo authors 🖤🖤
> 
> Alba - Your work is phenomenal, and I adore it! The way that you capture Kylo's personality takes my breath away, and your story Wolves was one of the first ABO stories that I read, and I immediately fell in love with it. Please, never stop writing (please!). 
> 
> Pastel - You're so, so sweet and your works are fantastic. Your portrayal of Rey is one of my favorites, no matter who she's paired with, and your descriptions always have me in *awe*. Not to mention, without reading your work, I would have never thought of Armitage and Rey as a couple -:) 
> 
> Inspirational - I found your work after reading Pastel's and love how different your reylo stories are! The ideas that you bring to life are great, and I always passed them along to my close friend, before he joined Archive. It's perfect! 
> 
> Kylo - You truly are one of my favorite reylo authors, like, ever. I've faithfully followed your work even before I joined the archive and live for your updates. Every chapter makes me ache for more, and I've never seen an author develop a relationship between Rey and Kylo like you do. Your writing truly is incredible. 
> 
> The four of you are so, so talented and I hope you like this little story. Though it's un-beta'd (and probably rough ;;) it made me happy to write it, just like your works all make me happy to read! 🌹

“Are you my family?”

  
  
Caramel colored eyes met his.

  
  
Ben (no, that name was long gone, buried within the shifting piles of ash that covered the first Jedi Temple), _Kylo_ looked down at the creature that gave him a toothy smile, before spitting on her hand, and wiping her dirty fingers on her shirt and sticking her hand out to him. He was on Jakku, the beating sun above them and his cowl drenched with sand. His Tie fighter was a ways behind him, its engine screaming in the wind.

  
  
He crouched down before her; a wraith in black and opened his arms to her.

  
  
“Yes,” He murmured, his face without mask. “I came back for you.”

  
  
She studied him beneath her eyelashes; her hand dropping back to her side, where it felt the mound of sandstone behind her. “For me?” She questioned.

  
  
She was a child of the desert; one who’d been raised by cuffing hands and chattering harsh tongues. Scars covered her tan skin; imprinting themselves between her ribs, and bleeding distrust into her gaze. Relied on for her small size and nubile ability to crawl through tight spaces; knowing exactly what to scavenge, she was a child more suited to handshakes and haggled trades than outstretched arms.

  
  
“For you,” He repeated, before saying her name. “Rey.”

  
  
His lips caressed the word as if it meant something to him. It wasn't snarled or spit or hissed into her ear as the result of her wrist breaking before she could pull the valued parts free, or said in the way that she whispered to herself at night, with her hair ties clutched in her hands, and her knees against her chest. “Your name is Rey,” She said, over and over again. “Your name is Rey.”

  
  
She didn’t know his, no letters flitting and rearranging themselves in her memory bank. Nothing came to her; nothing but the thought that he knew her name, and said he was her family. He was.

  
  
He _was._

  
  
She shrieked; a joyous, wonderful sound before throwing herself against him. His arms easily caught her, twining about her shoulders and held her to him as if she were the most precious thing in the world. “You aren’t alone,” He whispered, burying his face in her hair; faithfully tied back into three, wobbly buns. “You never will be again, Rey.”

  
  
She cradled his heart in her hands, as it raced the same as hers did.

  
  
_Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump_.

* * *

  
  
She ran her fingers over the interior of his ship and chattered over her shoulder to him about how valuable the parts were. When he pulled her into his lap and strapped her against him; she wiggled between his thighs and shrieked with excitement. “We’re flying!” She exclaimed. “Up, up, up!”

  
  
He’d laughed, a sound that felt coarse between his lips.

  
  
He'd been the same as her, once, when Han and his walking, matted rug took him in the Falcon. He'd run through the halls, using the Force to turn the lights on and send gears whirling into overdrive. He'd missed the look of fear on his father's face, and contemplation on the other's. He'd missed many things, then, as he strapped himself in, and kicked his legs; questions bursting from his lips.

  
  
“_How long did the Kessel Run take you, dad_?”

  
  
“_Less than-_“

  
  
“_Twelve parsecs_!” He’d chimed, and Han had laughed, ruffling his son’s hair.

  
  
“_Settle down, kid_” He’d said gruffly, his turned head hiding his smile. His son was his shadow, jumping to make his stride the same as Han’s. He begged to go along on every trip, never understanding why C3-PO said no, or his mother changed the subject. Han sighed.

  
  
_“Why so blue, Princess?”_

  
  
“_Because of you_.”

  
  
It was better if they were apart for a while; at least this time, Leia had let him take the boy with. Ben couldn't be friends with the stuffed-up senators that surrounded her or their prig children. Han decided he'd show him Canto Bright, and how to play Sabaac.

* * *

  
Kylo laughed too, as Rey leaned forward and placed her hands on the glass as if she could catch the stars between them. She left a smattering of fingerprints behind and turned to cup his cheeks instead. “I waited,” she said, her lower lip quivering. “I waited for you, a long time, Ky-lo.”

  
  
He’d told her his name and let her imprint on him as he’d carried her back to his ship, relieving her feet from the burning sand. She had strips of fabric wrapped about her heels and about her toes, after her last pair of shoes had been stolen, and her staff too. She’d ducked her head, as he promised her the world.

  
  
_Her feet would never burn again._

  
  
There were no sand dunes or spine barrels where he was taking her; no cruel overlords, or nights spent alone and dreaming of an ocean. Her thoughts were easy to read; cossetted in a warm, fragile shell. "_I’m taking you home_.”

  
  
She would stay beside him, born anew.

  
  
She hadn’t left her set of tools behind, carefully wrapped and placed in her worn bag, before pouring a handful of sand in too. “_So Jakku can come too_,” she’d said, as the harsh wind whipped about them.

  
  
“You did,” He murmured, one hand on the controls. “And I’m sorry for it.”

  
  
Sorrier than his sweet sister would ever know.

  
  
“You’re the best girl, Rey.” He knew her unsaid question; the one that gnawed away at her young soul. “You waited, you stayed, and let me find you.”

  
  
Ever since he’d slaughtered the students, his padawan peers, and supported the First Order he’d looked for her, and his Master had supported it. “_Bring her home, young Solo_.” Snoke had commanded, outstretching his gnarled fingers. “_Bring her home to her_ family.”

* * *

  
  
Rows of storm troopers waited, standing in sequence with their weapons down as he landed in the hanger. Their masks were unmoving; gleaming in the light as the hatch opened, and the feared apprentice climbed out with a girl in his arms.

  
  
They knew not to question, not to have rumors and whispers ripple among them as Kylo Ren passed.

  
  
No, every one of them knew their place.

* * *

  
  
He’d dreamed that they would rule; side by side, and her small hand in his. She would be his equal, his friend, his wife.

His love, if she wished for it.

  
There had only been one thought when he'd found his father's holograms, hidden away in fake paneling in the Falcon. He'd taken them to his bedroom and locked the door before setting them on his knees and turned them on. He’d been entranced by a child, one with the warmest eyes he’d ever seen, and a smile that lit up the world.

  
  
Who was she?

  
  
The girl had chased after a squealing BB-8 unit, before she was picked up strong hands, and held in a furry embrace. “Chewie!” She squealed, grasping handfuls of his fur.

  
  
And his father - his father’s voice came over the film, laughing in a way he’d never heard before; tenderness without any gruffness, and made his ears burn. “Don’t rip out his fur, kiddo!” Han swore beneath his breath as he moved into view, alarmed at the fur that the child had ripped free and was trying to eat, from his friend.

  
“Rey, no - “

  
  
_Rey_.

  
  
Ben repeated the name, tasting its bittersweet flavor on his tongue. 

* * *

  
  
They spent their days as one; meditating, and dressing, and eating and doing everything to live together and not apart. He watched with burning eyes as she lifted a spoon of hot broth to her mouth, and slurped on it loudly, before shooting him a teasing grin. She’d reveled at the food the Finalizer had and made herself sick when she found that the protocol droid would give her more when she asked for it. She’d stuffed her cheeks full of fruit, and hidden nuts away in her clothing before he’d noticed. “It’ll stay, Rey” He’d told her. “There will always be more.”

  
  
He knew always was a word she didn’t let herself believe in.

  
  
Still, she apologized, and he found nuts stuffed into his cowl; and slipped them into his pocket, eating them while he listened to Phasma and Hux scream at each other over hologram. They hadn't heard him crunching the cashews between his teeth; the sight of his naked face one they both shuddered at seeing. The only one who didn't was Rey, as she tousled his hair and pulled at his cheeks, wanting him to awake faster. She was a child; one free and unafraid of him, or his hands as they felt the lessening of her protruding ribcage, and the way she grew more solid as he held her.

  
  
More _real_.

  
  
He called her his little dove, a bird he'd once seen on Naboo during his childhood. She flapped her arms as if they were wings, mimicking him when he held his lightsaber, and practicing the moves he made in turn. He taught her the Force without restriction, all while letting her climb on his back and loop her arms about his neck, before tucking her chin on top of his head when she grew tired. He told her the history of the Sith, and the Jedi while telling her little of their family.

  
  
“We’re the only ones left,” He murmured, moving her so she was against his chest, facing him and kissed the tip of her nose. “The only ones who matter, Rey.”

  
She'd quieted at the words, before burying her face against his neck and shaking with unshed tears. Later, he brought her back to their quarters; and fed toast by hand, before writing their names together in stark, bold lines with his calligraphy pen while she sat on his desk and watched in fascination.

  
  
“Show me again,” She asked. “_Please_, Kylo.”

  
  
He did, again and again, before her eyes drooped and he knew she wasn’t watching anymore. “Only for you,” He said as he set aside the paper to dry and gathered her to him. Honeycrisps and the smell of crackling leaves clung to her; despite the sterile air of space. “All for you, Rey.”

* * *

  
  
They slept in the same bed, his arms about her waist, and hands resting on the small of her back, while she kept her hands tucked beneath her cheek and eyes met his. They went hours without speaking; as she traced the bridge of his nose, the curl of his upper lip, and the scar that dragged itself across his face, with her eyes.

  
  
And he? He traced each freckle that adorned her cheeks and crept across her nose, left from kisses by the sun. There was a moment when she nudged his arm and lifted up her hand. He’d hesitantly raised his in turn and entwined their fingers together; his long and pale, the blue of his veins visible in his wrist, while hers were small and calloused.

  
  
They were half-siblings kept apart, and he’d burned away any possibility of freedom to find her. He was anointed heir to the First Order, and the remnant of the Skywalkers. And his sister, his pretty, sweet little sister yawned and brought their hands to her lips, dusting his knuckles with kisses. “Kylo,” She said softly, and he called for the lights to lower to twenty percent. She wasn’t used to the darkness of his quarters; the lack of light from the stars as she’d slept beneath them on Jakku making her restless.

  
  
“Goodnight, Rey.”

  
  
She’d only known one name; her _own_ name, the only gift her mother had given her after hiding her away on the wasteland planet. They were all akin to moths, the ones who entangled themselves with the Skywalkers; catching their wings in the burning light of the family. Han had lost his wings to Leia and had clung to his shelter; his understanding Qi'ra, until her wings, had been clipped and her lungs filled with tar. And his uncle -

  
  
He withheld snarling; ever aware of the girl sleeping next to him.

  
  
His Uncle had hidden away until his friend had fallen at his nephew's hands, and his grieving sister had made a call to the entirety of the galaxy. "_Please Luke_,” She’d said, with tears glistening on her cheeks. “_Come home.”_

  
  
And he had.

  
  
He’d come to the Resistance’s last stand on Crait with his tattered robes and father’s lightsaber and stood before the First Order. He’d stood before Kylo himself and invited him to turn his blade on him. “The same as you did Han,” Luke said, his gaze unflinching.

  
  
They’d fought amidst awed onlookers, and the stilled might of the First Order, with eons of the Force behind them. They’d fought as if one would fall, and the other would live (_live free with their struggling wings and gasps for breath_). And when Kylo had come back with his saber in one hand, and his cracked mask in the other, Snoke had laughed uproariously.

  
  
“Skywalker is dead,” He’d boomed, as Kylo and the cur, Hux sprawled on their knees. “The Force has changed, have you not felt it?” Projecting himself had been too much, and too little, and not enough (_never, never enough for Kylo whose dreams were filled with blood beneath his twirling feet, and passion burning through his veins_).

  
  
"Never are we content with lost bloodshed," Snoke had said after Hux had gone, and Kylo was left with a darkening eye and blood dripping from his nose. The ache in his bones had been too loud, too _clear_ for his Master to ignore. "Yet we must be, Kylo."

  
  
_For greatness stains our hands instead_.

* * *

  
  
Every time he looked at his sister, he knew the words to be true.

  
  
“Only for you,” Kylo said, as he had once before, and his hand touched the glass where, on the other side, Rey watched her newest fascination: a pod race, where she dreamed she was a racer among them, the same his grandfather had been. There was only one room she wasn’t allowed into in their quarters; one room that she could never find. “Only for you, Rey.”

  
  
His hand dropped, and he turned back toward the relic.

  
  
His head bowed, lower than it’d never had before his Master. For there, in the little, sterile room was his true master; the one who illuminated his fate. _No_. His breath caught.

  
  
Their fate, their legacy.

  
  
“_Grandfather, please guide me_…"

**Author's Note:**

> Connect with me: https://januarywren.tumblr.com/ 🌹
> 
> and ask for me my discord! 🌹
> 
> Beta'd by Grammarly! 🦝🖤


End file.
